“Winter Picnic” by R.K. Duncan

“Winter Picnic” by R.K. Duncan

I’ll bring you a wish and shiver.
You can pay with a dream and kiss
For a cup that will never run over,
Filled with starlight that spied on our tryst

Hunt the moon through high mountain forest,
Through the needles and ice and the fog.
She will hide in the most sharp-edged valley.
You can track her with coal-dust fed dogs.

Bring me those silver-sheened haunches
To burn on my looking-glass grill.
I will season with salt-tears and lemon
And feed you the flesh of your kill

Be careful, my warm-blooded lover.
Your lips might stick there if you stay
Pressed just to the edge of my breastbone,
Where you might hear a heartbeat someday.

But don’t cry my sharp-nailed companion.
I will sing you farewell on the wind,
And I’ll come back to hold in due season,
When blood on the snow makes you grin.

R. K. Duncan is a new, hopefully up-and-coming, author mostly of fantasy, with a dash of sci-fi and horror thrown in. He writes about fairies and gods and ghosts from a ramshackle apartment in Philadelphia. In the shocking absence of any cats, he lavishes spare attention on cast iron cookware and his long-suffering and supportive partner. Before settling on writing, he studied linguistics and philosophy at Haverford college. His work has appeared most recently on NewMyths.com and in Beneath Ceaseless Skies. His occasional musings and links to other work can be found at rkduncan-author.com, his twitterings @RKDuncanAuthor.